Happy Birthday, Mattie!
by SquickWrites
Summary: It's Canada Day, why not write a totally mental fanfic about it? Unintentional PruCan here, and yes Gil is his best friend. Ever.


**Happy Canada day! Let's celebrate with an unintentionally PruCan fanfic! KKPEACEBYE**

**~Chae**

It was sad that I had to wake up to an albino. Sad, and disturbing.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY MATTIE!" He yelled it and smiled at me.

All I wanted to do was get out of bed, but he was already ruining my big day by _SITTING ON ME_ and _STRADDLING MY LEGS_ while waving useless, puny little flags. All I wanted to do, was get. Out. Of. Bed.

Using the pillow behind my head, I began smothering him until he understood and maneuvered himself away. I kicked my legs off the side of the bed and slipped my feet into slippers…. That I had not owned the day before.

"What is on my feet, Gilbert?" I asked, for as he was well aware, I was not a morning person. Not morning people do not like surprises in the morning.

Gilbert grins, pointing. "THOSE are maple scented slippers. The maple never runs out. Ever."

"Gil, this is weird."

…It was.

"And that's why they work so well for you!"

…Touché.

A few seconds later, Kamajumo walked into the room. On his head, he carefully toted a plate of pancakes smothered in syrup with an accurate dollop of butter. This was sweet. This was cute. Maple flavored slippers _are not cute_. This is forever the dilemma.

"Ohh, Kurojimjo, that's so nice of you to-"

"Gilbert, who am I giving these to? What is this?" the bear asked before I finished.

Oh right sometimes I forgot that I don't exist nearly as much as the guy who _DOESN'T EXIST ANYMORE_.

Gilbert glanced at me, then the bear. He then grabbed twenty dollars from my desk and handed it to the polar bear. Then he took the pancakes. "Nice job Kumajiro, now get out."

Kumajuka left with my twenty dollars. I had better be getting at least twenty five dollars in birthday money or I will declare _war_ on that selfish non-country.

"Thank you for… that. I think." I thanked him, though I wanted to pick pocket him. He gave me the pancakes. I cut them. He ate more than half of them.

Many, many things were wrong with this man.

When the pancakes were gone ((or rather, when Gil was finished with **my** pancakes)) he shoved the plate under my bed and left the room, singing my anthem.

I became concerned about the sanitation of my bed.

Later on, I took the hint that Gilbert wanted me to follow him, and this meant I could finally get out of bed.

I successfully made it to the living room.

Birthday Wish 1 – Get Out of The Bed

**Mission Accomplished.**

Except, I didn't really understand what this was. My couch was upholstered with my flag. That was _ok_ for maybe ten seconds, until I noticed that my nice white carpet was stained in the same pattern. It was magnetized to my fridge. It was taped to the walls. It was tied around my coffee table. It was wrapped around my vase. It was the accurate pattern of the flowers _IN_ the vase. It was the wallpaper on my desktop. It was on my pillows. It was the _channel_ of my _TELEVISION_!

Now certainly at some point that list got annoying and you skimmed down to this paragraph. I just wanted you to get a feel for my current emotions toward Gilbert Beilschmidt and every last thing on this planet of German descent.

Obviously, Gilbert was confused.

This was not 'Let's Ruin Canada's House!' Day. This was the Day of Canadian Independence. Or, half independence. But still. Maybe burn a Union Jack, eat a French flag. Set off a firecracker. Be happy. Not. _This._

I sat on my newly upholstered couch. Gil went ranting. "You SEE all this Matt? I worked hard on this stuff. You know what those losers on the internet would say right now? They'd say 'Canada. Canada Everywhere.' Kesese, yeah,I know the language of _those_ dorks too! And then they make a snarky comment – snarky is a totally awesome word, by the way – either about my awesomely sexy five meters, or how you tend to _slowly __fade__**away**_. Then you realize, their signatures refer to me controlling their vital regions – which I _**DO**_, by the way – or laughing. Internet's a creepy place. But look at your DESKTOP. It took me a while to crack your password. It was smart. I assumed you were much smarter than to let your password be 'password', so I gave it as a last resort try. Kesese, Mattie who'd've thunk it? SO. Two days to make all this-"

And I zoned out there, trying to imagine exactly where the hell I was during those two days.

"AND THUS! I, the Great and Gallant Gilbert, came to… notice _you_, the… Meek and Measly Matthew."

I paused my thoughts as he stopped talking. "Did you just insult me?"

"Wat no no wai. Why would I do that? It's your birthday. OH. AND CHECK. THIS. OUT."

At which point, he tore of his clothes – which, ironically included a shirt that said 'I'm too awesome for my shirt' – down to his boxers.

Which were plastered with Canadian flags.

They were tattooed to his shoulders too, permanent or not, I do not know.

This.

Was.

Weird.

For comedic effect, Gilbird paraded circles around his owner's head.

"Gilbert. Gilbert… Gil. Uhm. Please. Don't you think this is a bit… uh… much?" I asked, trying to be painless as possible. 

For a split millisecond I saw despair. I swear I saw it. If only I'd had a camera. But then it was all back to normal. "Of COURSE not! It's Canada Day, we shall celebrate _properly_!"

"…And this is proper?"

"OF COURSE IT IS."

"Uh, Gil… it's not."

And then Gilbert stared at me for two minutes. I think he got distracted and started having a battle with himself to beat his own record, but somewhere in there he came back.

"Is it proper if I tell you that it helped me get seats to tonight's hockey match?"

I stare back. "You lie. You tell me lies! Every Canadian will be there to show support for their team on their day. Bars are full, streets are full, traffic is backed. No seats."

Gilbert walked away from me but never lost eye contact. He dug under the coffee table and grabbed something. "Then why'd I buy all this Molson Canadian BEER? And these _PINTS_? Canadians don't just GET that shit for no reason. I promise you. I promise you. And besides, I waste _your_ money, not mine. I am no liar." He 'snrkd', and a 'Kese' escaped his mouth. "Is it proper now?"

Between my living room, the boxers, the tattoos, and _most importantly_ the **BEER**, things seemed undeniable.

"This is totally proper."

**X.x.X**

**LOL. Mattie 3 I have never written Matt before, and I am so proud of this failure. And Gilbert is just a special case. End story. Sooo Happy Canada Day!**

**~Chae**


End file.
